


Lethal Fixation

by OmissionSoul



Category: South Park
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Drama, Drugs, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Humiliation, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Multiple Instances Of Sexual Assault, Obsession, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Suspense, Thriller, Trauma, dark themes, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-13 21:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20589155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmissionSoul/pseuds/OmissionSoul
Summary: After being saved by a mysterious masked vigilante named Mysterion, Craig starts to develop a strong interest in him. However, that interest quickly delves into an obsession, and Craig soon finds himself willing to do whatever it takes in order to meet with the masked hero who saved him again. But will that encounter be the end, or the beginning of another's hell?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain very dark and heavy themes in it. Such as rape, manipulation (emotional, psychological etc), multiple instances of sexual assault, being stalked, a highly toxic and unhealthy relationship and more, etc. 
> 
> If any of the things listed either here, or in the tags, is something that will trigger you, or has the potential to cause any disturbing flashbacks for you, then DO NOT, read this story. This will be my ONLY warning.
> 
> \----
> 
> Song for the chapter: [Until The Ribbon Breaks - One Way Or Another](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeCOSgSqHsw)

It started one year ago.

Craig Tucker's fixation on him.

Craig was on his way home after stopping by a convenience store to pick up a pack of cigarettes sometime during the late hours. He hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings when he lit up a smoke. And hadn't noticed as a masked man slipped behind him and pulled a gun. But he did notice its barrel press to the back of his head and the hiss of the man's voice as he ordered him to hand over all of his money.

Craig however, wasn't in the best of moods that particular day and instead makes the mistake of giving the guy a snarky remark back and in turn is met, not with a shot, but a hit to the back of the head, which causes him to fall down to the ground. The man gets in a good two kicks to his stomach before he tells him, he's going to shoot him. But the man doesn't get the chance to, as a dark hooded figure emerged from the shadows and swiftly knocked him down to the ground, pinning him there.

Craig got a proper look at the figure once he sat up more. The figure wore a long, dark, purple hood and cape that covered the head and back. And a black mask that covered the upper half of the already obscured face, of what Craig could now clearly tell was a male wearing all purple, and a green 'M' that was worn brazen across his chest.

"Who are you?" Craig had asked as the figure stood up, finishing tying the man's hands behind his back.

"Mysterion." was the single deep worded response he got.

Craig didn't say anything more as he watched Mysterion give a small nod, before turning to head off into the darkness from which he came again. The interaction was short, but the impact it left on Craig was anything but that.

After that night ended, Craig gave up his two-year smoking streak, not wanting to deal with nearly dying over a pack of stupid cigarettes again. The cravings irritated him till no end, but he quickly found something else to fill them. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he started looking in to who Mysterion was. At first there wasn't much on him, but after doing some deep delving and finding some images, he started to uncover much more about the rogue vigilante.

He wasn't sure why he found himself with such a growing interest for the mysterious masked male. Maybe it was because he saved his life, or maybe it was something else. But the more he thought about, searched and studied him. The more he found himself with the desire to see him again.

And so he did.

By chance one evening, a store he had passed nearby got robbed. And after the information he had gathered before about Mysterion, he ended up following the lone criminal from a distance. Sirens had stirred somewhere not to far off and Craig had started to think that he may not show. But he did. Just like last time, he came out of nowhere. The lone criminal, a man, shouted obscenities at him and Mysterion replied back in that deep voice of his. When Craig heard it again, this time in more than one word, something inside made him shake as he took out a small camera he had on hand and hit record. He captured Mysterion apprehend the man and say a few more words to him, before once again disappearing into the night.

When Craig had gotten home after that, he rewatched the video many times on his laptop, before shifting through the large magnitude of pictures he also took. Most of which were too dark because there was no flash used, but he did get some fair looking ones out of the bunch. Some that showed Mysterion's profile, others of his arms and legs in that- _oh so tight_, costume he wore. When he finds a decent shot of Mysterion's torso, he enhances it and runs a finger down its outline on the screen. His whole body was so refined, and he couldn't help but wonder what muscles the fabric hid underneath it would look like in the flesh. And he found himself slipping ever so slightly each day, down the Mysterion rabbit hole. The more he searched for him, of small glimpses of him, the more he wanted to know about him. About his hero, his savior.

It wasn't long after that, that he started to dream about him. Or picture hearing his voice. Or imagine the way he'd move in that tight outfit of his, that Craig could practically hear his muscles screaming at him to set them free from their restraining prison. Soon, even hearing the video he took of Mysterion, of his voice, began to make him shake and shiver. And he found himself getting lost in fantasy.

Before he knew it, Mysterion was his life. From when he would wake up in the morning and go to school, to when he got home, he had become a part of his daily routine. Taking up all the free space in his head, becoming apart of his world. His whole world, everything became about this mystery man, this--anomaly that just suddenly appeared one day in his mundane life. And he wanted more of it. To see it up close. To smell its scent. To touch it with his own hands and feel it wither against him. To dissect it bit by bit and study its every being.

Whatever it took. He wanted Mysterion to be his, and only his. He _needed_ his hero to see him. To _feel_ him and how _much_ he meant to him.

So he devised a plan.

He knew Mysterion would come if he was in trouble, he always came when there was trouble. So all he needed to do, was figure out how to get him to come out. He sets up his plan on a Friday night, in a dark alleyway near the outskirts of town. Paying a man to follow him around town beforehand in the areas he knew Mysterion was most commonly in or surveyed, before getting to his destination. The man only knew about following Craig and roughing him up a bit. What he didn't know, or rather, what Craig didn't incline to tell him, was Mysterion making a sudden appearance, beating him and tying him up. And just as Mysterion gives a small nod like last time, about ready to leave, Craig stops him.

"Wait!" he exclaimed and Mysterion stopped to look back at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I just want to..." Craig had managed to get out, and keeping his spiraling urge under control. "Thank you."

"It's okay, you don't—" Mysterion is cut off though, as Craig suddenly hugged him.

"I insist." Craig murmured into the fabric around his neck.

Mysterion's scent had then wafted into Craig's nose, something of a musky mix of cheap cologne, peppermint and some kind of faint spice. And it took all he had, not to shiver at it, nor the faint body heat he could feel seeping across his shirt covered chest. He could also feel as Mysterion tensed before he loosened a bit and gave him an awkward hug back.

"I have something I need to tell you," Craig told him, and slowly moved his hand to the side of Mysterion's neck. "I..." and with a quick movement, he jabbed a hidden needle he held in his hand into the side of his neck, injecting the fluid and cutting straight through the fabric with its sharp point.

"What did you—" Mysterion yelled, shoving him off and holding at his neck.

"Want you," Craig finished saying, before Mysterion fell to his knees, then side as he passed out. Craig crouched down then and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry, but it was the only way." he whispers before getting back up to move him.

_ **...** _

That was all that had happened, and all that had led up to this moment in which Craig now finally had him within his grasp. Lying on his back, bound by his arms above his head on the ground. And just as he comes to, Craig flicks on a bright high beam light. At first Mysterion is dazed, but as he wakes more and comes to realization, now pulling at his restraints, which was rope that tied around his wrists and wrapped around a beam, Craig walks over to him.

"No need to struggle, my hero." Craig says as he steps next him and looks down. "It's just me, your biggest fan."

An expression close to what Craig can only assume as shock passes across Mysterion's face. Craig smiles somewhat and crouches down then.

"Look—I don't know what you're planning to do—but whatever it is, just let me go!" Mysterion exclaims and Craig chuckles.

"Oh no, I can't do that. Not after all I've put in to setting this up for you." Craig coos softly and caresses his cheek. "I have a lot of plans for us."

Craig stands back up and walks over to a small table he has set up. All of this had taken him time to set up, finding the most ideal location for where he could keep Mysterion away from everyone, the drugs and rope, all of it. So he had to make sure not to waste it. Luckily, he was able to find an old building out on the far side of town, condemned for demolition. Getting the sedatives he needed wasn't easy, but he had gotten enough at least, to do all that he planned to the masked vigilante. He takes a needle, placed on the table, and walks back over to Mysterion, who was now struggling with his restraints again.

"You don't need to do this," Mysterion says.

"Shhh," Craig hushes, and crouches down next to him again and attempts to put the needle to his neck, but Mysterion doesn't make it easy for him. He struggles so much to the point where Craig ends up having to sit on top of him to subdue him. "I'm not going to kill you," he tells him and grabs the fabric around his neck with his free hand, and pulls it down.

"Than what are you—" Mysterion is cut off as the needle pricks his skin and Craig injects it.

"You won't pass out this time. It's just so that you won't struggle so much. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Craig says and cups his face in his hand. Mysterion's eyes were so blue, but Craig only sees them for a few seconds before he shuts them and turns his head away from his hand. "Don't look so troubled," he tell him and puts the needle down. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

"What are you talking about?" Mysterion asks, his voice slurring slightly from the sedative taking effect.

Craig smiles and runs a hand down his chest, resting it over his heart. Even under the clothing, Craig could feel just how warm and tight Mysterion's body was under his hand. The thought of it arouses him and he slowly pushes his hips down against Mysterion's. He places both hands on his chest then and glides them up over the 'M'. His finger tips running over every bump and groove that the thin fabric hid underneath it. He then brings his hands down to Mysterion's belt and starts to undo it.

"Wait—"

"Shhh," Craig cuts Mysterion off again. "Just relax, and it will feel good."

As Craig finishes undoing the belt, he slides his hand under Mysterion's tight shirt and pushes it up to reveal the bare flesh of his stomach. It's adorned with abs and Craig can't help but run a hand over them. Without the fabric there now, he could feel just how warm Mysterion's skin was, and he shudders at the thought of all he was about to do to it. He grinds his hips down again as he pushes up Mysterion's shirt above his chest, and it doesn't take long for him to get fully turned on as he touches and plays with an exposed nipple. He's certain that by this point now, Mysterion can feel him as he tries to move his hips away from Craig's and his expression changes.

"You have a mole here," Craig says as a finger runs over the small mark resting on his right side ribcage. "How cute," he adds with a smile. "I wonder if you have any other hidden secrets under this costume."

"Stop," Mysterion slurs.

Craig ignores him though, as his hands move back down to Mysterion's belt and gets to work unzipping his pants and grabbing a hold of his cock and taking it out.

"Wow, you're pretty big," Craig muses, "just like I knew you would be."

"Why... are you doing this?"

"Why?" Craig repeats, "Because I'm your biggest fan of course. And because I've wanted you for quite some time now. Wanted to show you just what you mean to me and how you make me feel. Ever since that day I first saw you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head." he starts to stroke him. "I've always been watching you from afar, but now it's time that you watched me. My hero."

Craig's hands play with his cock, stroking it in various ways until he leans down and starts to suck him off. The thought of wrapping his lips around him and playing with his cock in his mouth and tongue, turn Craig on even more as he begins to touch himself after a while. He keeps going until he can't take it anymore and sits back up and begins to rub his own cock against him, faint pants escaping him as he does so. Mysterion's cock twitches against him and Craig wants to feel more. So much more. So he stops his movements, reluctantly, and stands up, walking over to the small table. His eyes land on a bottle and he picks it up and heads back over. Myterion's eyes widen when realizing what it is.

"I want to make sure things are gentle." Craig says, a small smile pulling at his lips. His eyes wander down Mysterion's exposed skin, and he twitches in anticipation. He goes back over to him, sets the bottle down and pulls his pants down. Mysterion attempts to struggle, but doesn't put up much of a fight due to the sedative.

"Stop..." Mysterion murmurs, as Craig takes his boots and pants off fully. He places himself between his legs then and grabs the bottle, pouring out a small amount of liquid into his hand. "Don't... do this."

"Everything will be okay," Craig says in a soothing tone, and rubs a hand up his thigh.

He slicks the liquid over his cock and fingers before grabbing one of Mysterion's legs and pushing it away. He brings a finger to his hole, and prods at it a few times, causing Mysterion to try and move away. But Craig holds him in place, as he slips a finger in the tight hole and Msyterion lets out a disgruntled sound.

"You feel so warm," Craig nearly pants. He starts to message it and eventually slips in a second finger, then a third one. "You have another cute mole here as well," he says taking note of the small mole hidden in the crevice of the left butt cheek. He removes his fingers after a while then readjusts himself. "I've waited so long for this. And now after long last, we can finally..." he slides into Mysterion then, slowly lavishing in the feeling of the sudden tight, hot, pressure around him. When it meets his base, he lets out a deep sigh. "Be as one."

Craig then starts to thrust, taking it all in at his own pace and ignoring the slurred protests of his precious captive. It was okay though, he would show Mysterion everything that he meant to him was. Craig's thrusts increase ,more and more over time until he reaches his climax and finishes inside him. When he comes down from it, he pulls out with a small sigh, as his eyes land on Mysterion's still erect cock.

"If you're done now, then let me go," Mysterion tries to seeth out, but can't get the proper tone.

"Go?" Craig asks, "But we're just getting started." he stands then and takes his pants off, "Besides, I haven't had my fun yet."

He sits back on top of Mysterion, his bare ass now resting on his stomach and he shudders. Mysterion's warm body felt so right to him, placed between his thighs like this. It was like the space that craved for something for so long was now finally being fed. As he looks over Mysterion's face again, he thinks about removing his mask, but doesn't. Part of him didn't want anything to ruin the image in his mind of this masked individual--that and the mystery only turned him on even more. But he couldn't deny that he was indeed curious about it. He focuses his attention over to the bottle and puts more liquid in his hand. He covers Mysterion's cock with it, before he starts to finger himself. Once done, he sets himself over it and lowers down until Mysterion is all the way in.

"You're so big and filling." Craig pants, he stays still for a minute before moving his hips into a steady rhythm. "You know, being fucked by you is—" he moans, "_was_, one of my fantasies." he clenches as he presses him in deeper. "You're the first one who I've ever let inside you know? And I hope I'm the first for you as well. I had many offers before, but none of them caught my interest. Not like you did. My hero."

Craig starts to move faster until he's riding him wild, adjusting so that Mysterion's cock hits a pleasure spot inside him just right with each thrust in he got. Panting, moaning and screaming out Mysterion's name over and over, he ends up riding him for such a long enough time, that he grows hard again. And eventually, because of his pure euphoria, precum starts to drip from him. He rides Mysterion until he makes him come, and when he does and a warm feeling floods inside of him along with a wonderful moan filling his ears as well, and Craig can't help but release for a second time all over Mysterion's chest and stomach because of it. He keeps him in until he softens, before getting off.

"Let... me go," Mysterion pants. Craig leans over his face and lightly caresses his cheek again.

"I can't," he replies and leans down, kissing him. Mysterion tries to face away, but is held firm in place by Craig's hand. "At least not yet," he adds as he pulls away.

"You won't get away with this."

"Oh? Won't I?" Craig asks back amused, "I'm pretty sure that you're the one being looked for, not me. Especially with what you've done. Being a rogue vigilante and all that, you know?" Mysterion falls silent and Craig smiles. "Now let's continue, shall we? My hero?"

**...**

Over the course of the next three days, Craig keeps Mysterion held captive. Heading off only to go home to sleep after making sure that Mysterion was well sedated and passed out before he did. He spends his time with him, exploring every possible inch of him, filling him and taking photos and video as well, anything he could to remember it all. Living out all the fantasies he could have ever thought up since being drawn in to him. All in various ways and positions. And when the time came for him to, regrettably, have to set him free again because of running low on sedatives, he makes sure he's passed out well before moving his location to the woods and leaving him there alone.

He didn't need to check on him afterwards, he knew he would run as soon as he woke up and realized he was free. And Craig knew it was very unlikely that he would ever meet, or talk with the masked individual ever again. For him, it would be back to the usual, boring, mundane again after that one last fantasy night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: [Beck - Wave ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2DLZkv4Yvg)

A pair of baby blue eyes shoot open to the sound of an alarm. A hand silences it, with the click of a small pressed button, as its fingers find an old alarm clock. A heavy groan is let out as a figure sits up from their bed and makes their way to a bathroom. The light flicks on with the flip of a switch and the figure's eyes squeeze shut again as they adjust to the fluorescent rays assaulting them. When they open again, the figure is greeted by their reflection in the mirror.

With dark swollen bags, heavy under his eyes and disheveled blond hair, stood one, Kenny McCormick.

He walks closer to the mirror and washes his face before examining himself again. He looked terrible. Aside from his eyes and hair looking how they did from the past few days of holing himself up in his room, and being unable to sleep, he had faded bruises on his arms and others that hid under the clothing he wore. His gaze travels down to his wrists, where red faded marks, bruised and coiled around them like snakes, reminding him of events he would rather forget about.

Four days of school had gone by that he missed, not wanting to go after what he went through and having to see _that_ person there. But there was only so long that he could stay home before his friends started asking where he was, or what was wrong. That added on with his school calling his folks about missed days didn't help much either. He had been hoping for his final year of high school to just pass by smoothly, but that didn't seem like it was going to be the case now. With a groan, he splashes more water on his face before getting ready for a painstaking day of school.

Body aching, as he walks back in to his room, the events of what had happened still ringing through him sore, as he dresses and puts on his parka and bag. His eyes land on a dark purple fabric that was hidden under a pile of clothes in the corner of his room. Memories come flooding back as his eyes linger on it. He hadn't touched that outfit since what happened, and wasn't sure if he ever would or not again. With an adjustment of his bag, he looks away and heads out of his room to school.

_ **...** _

To say that Kenny isn't on edge by the time he arrives at school, is an understatement. By the time he reaches his locker, his nerves have-- if not-- taken him over almost completely as it squeaks open.

“Alright,” Kenny mutters to himself, “just lie low and keep to myself.”

“Who are you talking to?”

The sudden voice nearly makes Kenny slam his locker shut, but he stops when he sees that it's just one of his friends, Stan.

“No one,” Kenny sighs, relieved.

“Huh, okay then,” Stan says. “Nice to finally see you back. Speaking of, where have you been dude? You totally went M.I.A there for a while.”

“I wasn't feeling well,” Kenny replies, gathering his things and glad that his hood hid most of his face from Stan.

“Oh,” Stan says, “well, hope that you're feeling better now.”

“Thanks,” Kenny says and closes his locker just as the bell rings. “We should probably get a move on so we're not late for class,” he suggests, changing the topic to something else.

He was apprehensive, but as long as he didn't think about what happened and just tried his best to avoid that one person, than all should be fine.  
  
At least that's what he wanted to believe anyways...

_ **...** _

The morning half of the day though, goes by surprisingly smooth, as he remembers that it's because he doesn't share any morning classes with that person, having forgotten about that with his current stat of mind. But his worries come rushing back as the afternoon classes he did remembered that he shared with that person, slowly come to an approach during the passing lunchtime he was now in. Currently, he was spending today's lunch in the library with a couple of his friends, Stan and Kyle. They sat at a long rectangle table, where Kenny sat across from Stan and next to Kyle.

As Kyle decides to spend his portion of lunch finishing up working on an assignment, Kenny and Stan go and bring back a couple comics and magazines to the table to read and pass the time with. Kenny was actually pretty glad that they wanted to spend time in the library that day instead of the cafeteria, lessening the chance of seeing _that_ person. As Kenny sets a comic he finishes reading down, a small group of individuals approaches them.

“Oh you guys are here too?” a voice asks, causing them all to look up.

“Oh hey Token,” Stan greets, “what are you doing here?”

“Helping Clyde look for books for his history class.” Token replies with a sigh.

“Clyde?” Stan asks, “Where?”

Token points a thumb over his shoulder, and there, standing at the end of a long book aisle looking at shelves, is Clyde. His head scanning them quickly in search of whatever books it was that he needed. Kenny feels a sudden unease at knowing those two are here, but doesn't say anything. Maybe he would be lucky and it would only be those two here with them?

Clyde eventually makes his way over to them with an annoyed sigh.

“No luck?” Token asks.

“No.” Clyde replies, “Ugh, this is such a pain.”

“Well you're the one who waited till the last minute to do it.” Token says.

“I know but still—” Clyde's eyes fall onto Kyle then. “Hey Kyle, what are you working on?”

“Huh?” Kyle says, only seeming to take note of him and Token now.

“Are you working on that dumb history assignment as well?” Clyde asks.

“Uh, yes?” Kyle replies, and Clyde saunters over and takes a seat on his other side.

“_Sooo_, Kyle, my man, my amigo, my good ol buddy, ol pal,” Clyde says and drapes an arm over his shoulder. “You mind helping out another poor fellow that's been subjected to this awful assignment?”

“By help, do you mean just coping my work?” Kyle asks, corking a brow at him.

“_Whaaaaat?_ No, I am offended that you would think such a thing of me.” Clyde says and Kyle looks at him unamused.

“Well if you're really serious about it, I guess I could,” Kyle says and Clyde grins.

“Hey, where did Clyde—” another voice asks now approaching the group.

The voice instantly causes Kenny to freeze and tense upon hearing it however. And a cold chill spreads across him.

“Oh hey Craig,” Clyde greets.

“What are you doing?” Craig asks.

“Oh well, Kyle here said that he could help me with the assignment, _sooo_...” Clyde explains.

Craig let's out an annoyed sigh and walks over to him, dropping a hardcover book onto the table. The loud sound of it, involuntarily makes Kenny flinch as he tries not to look at him. He didn't want to act like something was wrong, so instead looks at the front cover of the comic book he placed down in order to try and calm his now racing heartbeat.

“So I found this stupid book for nothing then?” Craig asks.

“No—”

“Save it.” Craig cuts Clyde off.

Kenny by this point was already starting to try and tune out the voices around him, trying to pretend that he was alone and he was fine. Which is why he doesn't hear when Stan firsts calls out his name and jumps when he touches his shoulder.

“Whoa dude, you okay?” he asks and Kenny is drawn back to the present, looking at him than becoming acutely aware that everyone was now looking at him in turn.

“M' fine,” Kenny mumbles through his parka, wrapped closely around his face.

He needed to calm down and remind himself that it was okay, and that there was no way he would be recognized in his heavy coat or different sounding voice. He was okay.

“Well, can you hand me that comic if you're done with it then?” Stan asks, pointing to the book in front of him. Kenny reaches a hand to it and pushes it over towards him across the table. “Thanks,” Stan says, then pauses, “holy shit—dude, what the hell happened to your wrist? It's all bruised.”

Kenny freezes again, he hadn't been paying proper attention to the fact that his sleeve had slid up his arm, when pushing the book to Stan. His heart stops in place and a cold sweat now formed on his skin. And as much as he didn't want to, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to Craig in that moment, where he now found the dark haired boy staring at his wrist, wearing an unreadable expression.

“Kenny?” Stan asks and Kenny quickly pulls his hand away and hides it in his sleeve again.

“It's nothing,” he replies, “Just injured it from a fall is all.”

“Oh,” Stan replies, pausing before looking to the comic to read. “Hope it heals alright then.”

Everyone else seems to go back to what they were doing following that, everyone except for Craig, whose eyes still lingered where Kenny's wrist had been a few seconds ago. Sweat forms in the palms of Kenny's hands, as Craig's gaze trials over to him. The moment his eyes look back in to his own, Kenny tears his gaze away and stands up, the chair screeching across the floor as he does so.

“I, uh—I think I'm going to spend the rest of lunch in the cafeteria—or outside—or something.” Kenny quickly says before heading off.

“Okay, later then!” Stan shouts after him, looking back up.

Kenny doesn't go to either of those places though, and instead goes somewhere silent to try and calm down for the remainder of lunch. He ends up skipping his afternoon classes, not sure if he would react in a similar manner again or not if he went to them. Choosing to be safe rather than sorry instead.

When he gets home, he ends up passing out early from the constant on edge stress he felt on and off throughout the day. Giving small comfort whispers into his pillow to himself of, _I can do this_, and, _it will be okay._


End file.
